PRINCE IVAN IVANOVITCH
When the Princess had heard my verses and overwhelmed the writer
of them with praise, Grandmamma softened to her a little. She
began to address her in French and to cease calling her "my
dear." Likewise she invited her to return that evening with her
children. This invitation having been accepted, the Princess took
her leave. After that, so many other callers came to congratulate
Grandmamma that the courtyard was crowded all day long with
carriages.
"Good morning, my dear cousin," was the greeting of one guest in
particular as he entered the room and kissed Grandmamma's hand,
He was a man of seventy, with a stately figure clad in a
military uniform and adorned with large epaulettes, an
embroidered collar, and a white cross round the neck. His face,
with its quiet and open expression, as well as the simplicity and
ease of his manners, greatly pleased me, for, in spite of the
thin half-circle of hair which was all that was now left to him,
and the want of teeth disclosed by the set of his upper lip, his
face was a remarkably handsome one.
Thanks to his fine character, handsome exterior, remarkable
valour, influential relatives, and, above all, good fortune,
Prince, Ivan Ivanovitch had early made himself a career. As that
career progressed, his ambition had met with a success which left
nothing more to be sought for in that direction. From his
earliest youth upward he had prepared himself to fill the exalted
station in the world to which fate actually called him later;
wherefore, although in his prosperous life (as in the lives of
all) there had been failures, misfortunes, and cares, he had
never lost his quietness of character, his elevated tone of
thought, or his peculiarly moral, religious bent of mind.
Consequently, though he had won the universal esteem of his
fellows, he had done so less through his important position than
through his perseverance and integrity. While not of specially
distinguished intellect, the eminence of his station (whence he
could afford to look down upon all petty questions) had caused
him to adopt high points of view. Though in reality he was kind
and sympathetic, in manner he appeared cold and haughty--probably
for the reason that he had forever to be on his guard against the
endless claims and petitions of people who wished to profit
through his influence. Yet even then his coldness was mitigated
by the polite condescension of a man well accustomed to move in
the highest circles of society. Well-educated, his culture was
that of a youth of the end of the last century. He had read
everything, whether philosophy or belles lettres, which that age
had produced in France, and loved to quote from Racine,
Corneille, Boileau, Moliere, Montaigne, and Fenelon. Likewise he
had gleaned much history from Segur, and much of the old classics
from French translations of them; but for mathematics, natural
philosophy, or contemporary literature he cared nothing whatever.
However, he knew how to be silent in conversation, as well as
when to make general remarks on authors whom he had never read--
such as Goethe, Schiller, and Byron. Moreover, despite his
exclusively French education, he was simple in speech and hated
originality (which he called the mark of an untutored nature).
Wherever he lived, society was a necessity to him, and, both in
Moscow and the country he had his reception days, on which
practically "all the town" called upon him. An introduction
from him was a passport to every drawing-room; few young and
pretty ladies in society objected to offering him their rosy
cheeks for a paternal salute; and people even in the highest
positions felt flattered by invitations to his parties.
The Prince had few friends left now like Grandmamma--that is to
say, few friends who were of the same standing as himself, who
had had the same sort of education, and who saw things from the
same point of view: wherefore he greatly valued his intimate,
long-standing friendship with her, and always showed her the
highest respect.
I hardly dared to look at the Prince, since the honour paid him
on all sides, the huge epaulettes, the peculiar pleasure with
which Grandmamma received him, and the fact that he alone, seemed
in no way afraid of her, but addressed her with perfect freedom
(even being so daring as to call her "cousin"), awakened in me
a feeling of reverence for his person almost equal to that which
I felt for Grandmamma herself.
On being shown my verses, he called me to his side, and said:
"Who knows, my cousin, but that he may prove to be a second
Derzhavin?" Nevertheless he pinched my cheek so hard that I was
only prevented from crying by the thought that it must be meant
for a caress.
Gradually the other guests dispersed, and with them Papa and
Woloda. Thus only Grandmamma, the Prince, and myself were left in
the drawing-room.
"Why has our dear Natalia Nicolaevna not come to-day" asked the
Prince after a silence.
"Ah, my friend," replied Grandmamma, lowering her voice and
laying a hand upon the sleeve of his uniform, "she would
certainly have come if she had been at liberty to do what she
likes. She wrote to me that Peter had proposed bringing her with
him to town, but that she had refused, since their income had not
been good this year, and she could see no real reason why the
whole family need come to Moscow, seeing that Lubotshka was as
yet very young and that the boys were living with me--a fact, she
said, which made her feel as safe about them as
though she had been living with them herself."
"True, it is good for the boys to be here," went on Grandmamma,
yet in a tone which showed clearly that she did not think it was
so very good, "since it was more than time that they should be
sent to Moscow to study, as well as to learn how to comport
themselves in society. What sort of an education could they have
got in the country? The eldest boy will soon be thirteen, and the
second one eleven. As yet, my cousin, they are quite untaught,
and do not know even how to enter a room."
"Nevertheless" said the Prince, "I cannot understand these
complaints of ruined fortunes. He has a very handsome income, and
Natalia has Chabarovska, where we used to act plays, and which I
know as well as I do my own hand. It is a splendid property, and
ought to bring in an excellent return."
"Well," said Grandmamma with a sad expression on her face, "I do
not mind telling you, as my most intimate friend, that all this
seems to me a mere pretext on his part for living alone, for
strolling about from club to club, for attending dinner-parties,
and for resorting to--well, who knows what? She suspects nothing;
you know her angelic sweetness and her implicit trust of him in
everything. He had only to tell her that the children must go to
Moscow and that she must be left behind in the country with a
stupid governess for company, for her to believe him! I almost
think that if he were to say that the children must be whipped
just as the Princess Barbara whips hers, she would believe even
that!" and Grandmamma leant back in her arm-chair with an
expression of contempt. Then, after a moment of silence, during
which she took her handkerchief out of her pocket to wipe away a
few tears which had stolen down her cheeks, she went, on:
"Yes, my friend, I often think that he cannot value and
understand her properly, and that, for all her goodness and love
of him and her endeavours to conceal her grief (which, however as
I know only too well, exists). She cannot really he happy with
him. Mark my words if he does not--" Here Grandmamma buried her
face in the handkerchief.
"Ah, my dear old friend," said the Prince reproachfully. "I think
you are unreasonable. Why grieve and weep over imagined evils?
That is not right. I have known him a long time, and feel sure
that he is an attentive, kind, and excellent husband, as well as
(which is the chief thing of all) a perfectly honourable man."
At this point, having been an involuntary auditor of a
conversation not meant for my ears, I stole on tiptoe out of the
room, in a state of great distress.
